River of Shadows (Underworld Gods #1)(43)

Then Death removes the metal stopper and the white centipede crawls out onto his fingers. He grasps it by the writhing end, it’s hundreds of tiny legs wriggling, and holds it above my father’s head.

“No!” I scream, trying to fight him, but Death just holds me back with his arm and lets the centipede go. I watch in horror as the centipede crawls down over my father’s face—mirroring when I saw him in the casket—and up his nose.

My father screams.

I scream.

Then my father’s eyes roll back in his head and he suddenly collapses, dead weight in the skeleton guards’ hands.

“What did you do!?” I screech at Death, rage tearing through me. “You promised you would let him go!”

Death is holding me back by the chain now and I’m falling to my knees, trying to crawl after my father after the guards drag him away.

“He’s not dead,” Death says gruffly, as if I’m overreacting. “The dreamwalker has only put him to sleep. A deep sleep that even a shaman won’t wake up from, not for a few days. Gives my Deadhands enough time to take him out the way he came in and leave him in the Upper World. Where he will stay.”

My heart calms, just a little, in knowing he isn’t dead. “You could have just escorted him out,” I say weakly.

Death lets out another dry laugh. “He’s a shaman, little bird. A powerful one. Don’t base all your knowledge of them on Rasmus. Your father has the ability to fight his way back here and then some. The only reason he can’t use his magic in here is because of all the onyx and iron. And the wards, though I don’t trust those that put the wards in place.”

“He’ll be back. He’ll come back for me.” I know I should keep that knowledge quiet, but I want to prove how strong my father is, how much he loves me.

“He won’t,” Death says. “And not because he won’t try. He won’t remember. That’s the gift of the dreamwalker. All your memories from weeks prior will be gone. He’ll wake up somewhere in Lapland and there’s a chance he won’t even remember coming here. He won’t even know he’s been cured from cancer until he realizes he’s not dead yet.”

I grind my teeth together, the anger and violence rushing through me is shocking even to me. “You extend a man’s life but he won’t even know it? He might spend all his days thinking he’s about to die, that they’re his last! You’re depriving him of the gift of a second chance!”

I hear Death lift up the chain and seconds later the iron collar is pulling back against my throat. “As much as I love the sight of you chained and on all fours, ass toward me, I think it’s time to show you to your room.” He gives the chain another yank until I’m staggering to my feet. “And I’m not depriving your father of anything. A man who thinks he’s dying, as long as his body permits him, will live out his last days by savoring everything life has to offer. Your father will go on squeezing every last drop out of his life before he finds out he has so much more ahead of him. It’s just unfortunate you won’t be a part of it.”

“And what about Eero and Noora?” I ask.

Death walks around me and I feel his gaze as he stares down at me. I don’t want to meet his eyes. I hate knowing he can see me but I can’t see him. “You’ve mentioned them before…”

I don’t want to tell Death anything else, give him any more information, but if he knows something about them, I need to know it too. “It’s a long story, but they’re also shamans and my father’s business partners who faked his death when they found out he came here, and then lured me over to Finland with a fake funeral. When I discovered it was all a lie and my father was gone, they tried to kill me. I only escaped because of Rasmus.”

A pause. “I see…” he muses. “Eero, you say? What did he look like?”

“Like my dad,” I say. “I don’t know if all shamans look the same, but they do. Except he looked meaner and his eyes were dark. Noora, she’s blonde and short and round. Mid-sixties, maybe, for both of them.”

“I’m not sure who they are,” Death says after a moment, though I can’t tell if he’s keeping something from me or not. “But it’s not my business, and it’s no longer any of yours. You see, Hanna, it doesn’t really matter what happens to your father after this, because you won’t know about it. You will be here for the rest of your life.”

He pauses and I swear he grins. “You will never see your father again.”





Chapter 11





The Little Mermaid





I wake up in a bed.

There’s a brief moment when I think I’m in my room at home. The way the light is coming in on my face feels similar to how mornings hit when my alarm goes off at seven-thirty. My bedroom is—was—north-facing and it faces a McMansion, as our neighborhood not-so-affectionately calls them, so the light is always subdued and filtered, even at the height of summer. Jenny’s bedroom faces east, so she gets the sun waking her up every morning, which is nice in theory, but I like the fact that I can sleep in if I want to.

I open my eyes but instead of seeing my popcorn ceiling—which I’m sure is full of asbestos—and the remnants of glow-in-the-dark stick-on stars left behind by renters past, I see a burgundy velvet canopy strung across black-lacquered bed posts.